


To Change The Meaning of Control

by cadkitten



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Making Love, Multiple Orgasms, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Dynamics, Romance, Rope Bondage, sloppy blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 20:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16817755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Shiro's gaze fell on the tree again: modest and beautiful, brightening its little corner of the world simply by existing. He thought of Keith and then he thought of them whenever they were together: modest and beautiful and brightening their little corner of the world with what they were.





	To Change The Meaning of Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kate1zena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate1zena/gifts).



> For the lovely kate1zena - thank you for all you do!  
> One of your suggestions was Shiro in bondage with the hint of the idea that it might bother his PTSD. My own ideas tossed it up and I came out with a solution!  
> Beta: sakuraame

Shiro shivered, cool air sliding through the otherwise warm flat. Having knelt here for nearly ten minutes, he was pretty sure it was coming in under the sliding glass door. Possibly the rubber bit that was supposed to help had a gap somewhere or the sealant around the glass itself had peeled up. He'd check it later. Whatever it was, it provided a sharp contrast to how warm his bare skin was until each little gust came through and left the fine hairs on his arms and legs standing on end. 

He closed his eyes, drew a breath in through his nose and let it out from between his lips with a quiet sigh. His toes curled and he tested the way his body shifted against the ropes that wound between his ankles and thighs. His ankles were looser, the silky rope firmer around his thighs. Considering it, he figured the way he had his knees spread probably lent to that fact more than how Keith had tied him. 

Slowly opening his eyes, he blinked a few times to get the tree in the corner to come into focus. It was a simple thing, three feet tall and white. Keith had strung it with little silver strands of snowflake lights and Shiro had added the tiny red and green ornaments in the shape of gingerbread men to it. The whole of it had cost them maybe twenty dollars and Shiro found he felt more at home with this tree than he ever had with the more expensive ones the Garrison had always insisted on putting in his office. It was modest, but it was _theirs_.

Wetting his lips, he shifted again, tugged his wrists a little to feel the shift of the red rope Keith had used there. The ghost of a memory touched his consciousness and the rapid flutter of panic's half-cousin hinted in his chest. He snapped his gaze to Keith and silently reminded himself that Keith would let him out with one word. That Keith hadn't been the one to ask for this.

His heart calmed and his muscles relaxed again. The cold air rushed through the flat again and he shifted enough to dig his toes into the carpet instead of curling them up as he had been. The pull of his muscles kept him grounded and he allowed his hips to arch for Keith's benefit, watched his lover's gaze slide down over his body to rest on where his cock jutted from his body, caught in the throes of his need with the white ring around its base. He rolled his hips and tipped his head back, hoping to entice his lover off the couch without words.

It worked, better than he'd planned, and in the next instant Keith was there, kneeling in front of him, his hands on his cheeks - so gentle that Shiro closed his eyes to simply revel in it. He allowed himself another shiver and Keith leaned in, lips whispering against his own, words of affection that never made it to the air. Shiro felt the impact of them anyway, his heart soaring and his body thrumming with Keith's proximity. 

Keith's hands slid down his neck, over his chest, and curved around to his sides, holding onto his hips as he ducked his head and pressed up under Shiro's chin, mouth pressing fully to his Adam's apple and then to the side of his neck and up to just below his ear where he heard Keith inhale, his breath stuttering, his fingertips tightening. 

Shiro gasped as Keith continued his assault, kissing and nipping and licking and then blowing his warm breath across the ravaged area. 

A rough moan left him when Keith shoved a hand into his hair and attached to his throat with a needy whine, biting lightly at the sensitive flesh there. Keith never left marks - or at least nothing that didn't fade in a few minute's time - but Shiro always felt his touch wherever he'd gone, even days after.

Keith panted against his collarbone and Shiro listened as he opened his pants, felt it when he started to jerk off, his movements frantic and needy. Shiro arched toward Keith, pressing up against him with everything he could from how he'd been tied up and settled on the living room floor. It took a minute for Keith to calm himself enough to stop working over his own flesh and let go. When he did, it was different. Different in the same way it always was when he urged Keith to lead them.

He could feel how all the walls had come down between them. Nothing in Keith screamed he wanted to run away and everything in Shiro felt warm and _right_. Keith's hands were sure rather than hesitant on his body, took from him what they wanted, so very unlike usual. Keith's touches were always whispers of his true desires - a brushed finger when he wanted to hold and possess, a kiss when he really wanted to bite, a gentle press of his hand when he wanted Shiro to go faster instead of a breathless demand for it to happen. Whenever Shiro gave up his control to Keith it became something else entirely. 

Here, Keith's hands pressed and tugged, gripped and belayed their desperation. His kisses weren't the fragile breakable whisps of usual, instead they were beasts of fire and need turned up so hot Shiro thought he might burn alive from their mere existence. Keith's desires hung on the outside instead of being buried on the inside and Shiro reveled in getting to see it all for what it really was. He loved Keith's freedom as much as he loved his own lack of it.

Desperate fingers clasped at his back, Keith's hungry mouth pressed to his shoulder, cock thrusting rapidly against Shiro's hip. Keith _used_ him and Shiro was thankful for the ring of rubber that held him back from cumming all over both of them with the intensity of it.

More kisses rained down over his torso as Keith untangled himself from Shiro and slid to the side, lips moving down over his hip and then his hand was around Shiro's cock, tugging insistently before his lips joined in and Shiro couldn't have held back the shout he let out if he'd tried. His hips bucked, shoving him roughly into Keith's mouth, reveling in the sloppiest blowjob he'd ever received.

Keith's mouth was wet with saliva, wet enough Shiro felt it sliding down his shaft, could see it glistening on Keith's fist as he stroked him beneath his mouth to give him full stimulation. They'd learned early on that Keith _did_ have a gag reflex and that it wasn't going to just disappear with practice. Not that it mattered, Keith was _good_ at what he did. He was enthusiastic and his desperation was palpable once he got his hands and mouth on Shiro's cock. 

Keith brought him right to the edge and then lifted off, using his other hand to wipe away the shine of spit from his mouth and chin, just sitting there on his knees, staring at Shiro with his need shining so brightly in his eyes. Shiro flexed his fingers, curling them into fists as he spread his knees as much as he could and did his best to engage his core as he leaned over.

Keith caught the binding on his wrists halfway down, kept him hovering there as he moved behind him. Fingertips lightly pressed against the plug he'd put in earlier, rubbing and then grasping the little handle on it and tugging until it popped free. Shiro watched Keith settle it beside them and gasped at the hard grip on one hip and the way Keith ground his cock against his ass. A few aborted thrusts jostled him and then Keith was undoing the binding on his wrists, pushing his hands toward the floor.

Shiro moved to hold himself up on his hands, bending over more for Keith as he did. The rope slid around his chest and he felt Keith's fingers tying it, keeping his arms where they were, barely pressed to the carpet in between his knees, just barely baring him for Keith to fuck. His cock became impossibly harder and he made a needy noise, praying Keith would hurry up and fuck him.

Firm fingers wrapped around his hips, held on tight enough Shiro's arousal spiked again, and then Keith was entering him - all at once, with no warning, and all the way to the hilt. He didn't pause and Shiro felt the way Keith was losing control in the solid thrusts that became half-aborted, that fell off into helpless rutting for a few seconds before coming back into themselves. 

Keith's presence behind him was solid and warm and it filled Shiro in a less literal way than Keith's cock was managing. It left him trembling, excited and clinging to the edge of his orgasm. The muscles in his thighs jerked, his fingertips white with the effort of holding himself up like this, a perfect gift for Keith to fuck. His belly went tight as his passage tightened around Keith. He was going to cum regardless of what was wrapped tight around the base of his cock.

Shiro strained for it, arched and gasped in great lungfuls of air, curled his toes and cried out when Keith gave it to him harder for his effort, his hands moving to his shoulders, holding on as he plunged deep into him again and again. He let a broken gasp of Keith's name hang on the air, felt the grip on him tighten and then Keith's rhythm completely fall apart. The breathless whisper of permission came right behind it and Shiro sobbed as the cord inside him snapped. 

Every pulse of his orgasm felt like he was emptying himself of more than just his seed. He felt every ounce of stress and frustration leave him with it. He felt the remnants of the ghosts that had been chasing him fall to dust at their knees and he couldn't find fault in the way his cheeks were wet at the end of it.

If his completion had been the epitome of release, Keith's was the kindly brother to fulfillment. He plunged in deep and stilled, a sharp little cry leaving him as he began to pulse, emptying himself right up inside Shiro's passage. With it came a rush of affection and warmth and a stillness Shiro hadn't felt in months. He felt _relieved_.

Keith held him in place long after he finished, his touches turning from the firm things they had been to the whispers of affection they usually were. His lips glided over places they'd once pressed, tenderly kissed where he'd once bitten. His fingers caressed what he'd gripped so forcefully and when he untied him, it was Keith's arm that supported him through it: first the rope binding his arms and then the one around his thighs. Both hands came down to gently remove the ring, cradling him both before it was removed and after, fingers gently massaging his sac as if in apology. Those same hands ghosted over his thighs and then between them and up, pressing to Shiro's rim, still stretched around Keith's cock. 

Keith's fingers remained there, gently exploring, feeling around where they were joined, and then his hips pushed forward, sinking him all the way back in and the shocked hiss of breath against his shoulder was all the warning he received before he felt Keith throbbing inside him again, pumping him full of another beautiful gift. He felt Keith's full-body tremble and then the little pant that followed it up, the way his stomach muscles jumped as he shifted to pull out. 

When he did, Shiro didn't miss the fullness in the way he might have if Keith hadn't just given him another precious piece of himself. Rather he just felt open and pleased. Keith shifted away and his hands deftly removed the ropes binding Shiro's ankles, his hands skimming back over the flesh that had been beneath, his gentle touch making Shiro's breath hitch. Keith's body pressed back against him, his arms tugging him upright and back against him, his kisses merely a suggestion along his neck and shoulder, his breath a surety against his skin. Their touches talked for them, Shiro's hands coming to hold Keith's arms, his head resting back on Keith's shoulder stating his pleasure and satisfaction with what had transpired. Keith's hold whispered a plea for forgiveness at having used and taken and Shiro's offered a placation and a tenderness that was born of what they'd just done. 

Shiro's gaze fell on the tree again: modest and beautiful, brightening its little corner of the world simply by existing. He thought of Keith and then he thought of them whenever they were together: modest and beautiful and brightening their little corner of the world with what they were.


End file.
